


Wake Up to the Sound of Murder

by cleveradjective



Category: Criminal Minds, Homestuck
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Bombs, Crossover, Death, Drama, Drug Use, Explosions, F/F, F/M, FTM Dave, Flashbacks, Hospitals, Law Enforcement, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, PTSD, Tattoos, Trans Character, etc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleveradjective/pseuds/cleveradjective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you just woke up from something that you aren't sure is a dream. You're panicking and wondering where your friends are, not to mention the fact that you're caught right in the middle of a murder investigation.</p><p>How could you have gone so very wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> crossovers are my lifeblood  
> I have actually been wanting to do this for a while -- it's one of my favorite shows and comics smashed together.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and oh boy are you screwed.

You have just woken up, the feeling akin to waking up from a bad nightmare. You are currently in a hospital room. You feel very different, very strange, and when you begin to look around, you realize why. You are not in your body, instead being in one similar to a human's. Probably a human's, you realize. Your hands fly up to feel your face, the top of your head and... Yeah, there's no horns. Your skin is human pink, and soft, and you...

You're hyperventilating, eyes wide open because no, no, this should not be happening. What happened, how did this --

You try to sit up, only to find that there are tubes connected to your arms. You try to speak, try to get out of this, but your throat is hoarse and you're panicking. You feverishly tear the tubes from your arm, letting out a shout from the pain and the blood that starts trickling down. It's red, and you should have known, you should have expected it, but you're still surprised. You try to look away, but you become fixated on the red streaming from the wound. You ache all over, and your head hurts so, so much. You feel encaged, captured, so you quickly stand, moving to the door. Moving, trying to get out...

All that you can hear is your breathing, your heavy, labored breaths as you try to run from an unknown terror. Everything is so unfarmiliar and strange, and you just can't deal with it. You're terrified, because you think you know what happened. You are sure that someone was able to beat the game -- but it must have been one of the humans. This is a human planet, you can tell, because it doesn't look like Alternia. You know it's not Beforus, either, because you pass some people in the hall, and... They're human.

You can't breathe. This is too much, this is fucked up. Whyt couldn't you have gone back to Alternia? Why couldn't you have been somewhere else? You close your eyes as you run, and it's so hard to breathe. You're still bleeding and you can't breathe, you can't...

You don't see it when you run right into someone, causing you to trip and fall. A curse flies out of your mouth as you fall flat, your nose connecting with the ground with a cringe-worthy crunch, and you let out a groan. You try to sit up, wincing at the protest in your newly-bruised muscles, your arm throbbing. You grit your teeth, pulling yourself up off of the ground. You turn to glare at the person that you ran into, except...

You look in the direction that the person was coming from, and you deflate. There's a group of people who look battle-trained. Proffessional. You're shaking from what you deem is blood loss, trembling in front of these strangers. You reach to your sylladex for you scythes, until a pained look crosses your face. There's no sylladex, at least not one that you have access to. You try again, with no avail, before you freeze.

You need to get out of here, before these blokes start questioning you. The one on the ground is staring up at you, the others still in astonishment, you suppose. You're still out of breath, panting, trembling. Your arms and legs hurt, as if this body has never used them before. Everything is spinning and you're dizzy, disoriented.

You don't think as you begin to collapse on the floor with a keen, and the last thing that you see before you close your eyes is one person from the group reaching out to catch you.

* * *

 

You are, once again, laying on a bed, but you're chained down this time. You're still dizzy and it hurts to breath in, your head still hurts, but you feel a bit better. You uselessly tug on you bounds, and let out a hoarse laugh. Humans are so strange.

As you laugh, something (someone) in the room shifts. At that, you open your eyes the rest of the way, flinching away from the bright light in the room. "Fucking Christ, can someone turn that pan-addled, grubshitting light off, or at least down?" You spit out a few words, and the light is dimmed down. You breathe a sigh of relief -- apparently your human form doesn't take well to bright lights, either. You begin to close your eyes again, before a voice sounds.

"That's an interesting choice of cursewords, Mr. Vantas," it says, and you can immediately tell that it's a male. You eyes fly open, and you sit up, looking towards the direction the voice came from. You see a middle-aged human, with black hair and a suit on. It immediately reminds you of John's dad-lusus thing, and a pang of grief flashes through you. The man seems to pick up on that, but you ignore his reaction to provide him with an answer.

"Of course it fucking is. Now, save your questions, because I'm assuming you're either a medical professional or a federal agent or something, and since you aren't holding one of the clippy things, I'm assuming it's the later one," you say in a rush. "I do not remember anything except for maybe waking up in a strange place, and this conversation right now. And, also--"

You pause, frowning. "Go on," the man says. You're beginning to think that maybe what you're remembering (the game, everything) is a dream, but you doubt it. If you saw something like this, this human world, you would remember it.

"Just a dream. It was stupid. Nothing before that." the man nods, taking out a portable messaging device and typing something into it. "Uh, hey," you say, and he looks back at you, waiting for you to speak. "Since you're not a mediculler, who are you and why are you here?"

The man gives you a strange look, setting down the portable messaging device and sending you a smile. "Well, I'm Agent Hotchner, a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I'm here because you're a suspect in a murder investigation."

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you decide that Terezi would be ashamed of you for getting in trouble with the law so soon after your arrival on this planet.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been so long since you've been alive.

Most of what you remember is steel pushing into your from two directions, the pain of the stinging metal and it cut through you. You remember your last words -- a mumbled rap under your breath as you chased for Jade's dead body, trying to just get her back no no please don't take her you can fix this --

You remember the emptiness of the new, altered world, how you felt like emptiness floating in nothingness upon the void. Then, though, you remember the sound of shouting -- distant, quiet. You let out a groan, murmuring, wanting the noise to go away. You remember light, and the blood all red, filling your vision and making you want to scream.

It's quiet, now. You can hear a beeping noise, one that keeps getting louder as you become lucid. It sounds like a hospital, you think, and you believe that you're dreaming. This is a dream, because you are dead. You were stabbed, had a heroic death. You still try to open your eyes, though.

To your surprise, you see white ceiling tiles. It reminds you of the white body of one of the dogs, and once again, you feel like you can't breathe. It's too bright, where are your shades, you can't breathe, you chest still hurts and you can't --

You're screaming sitting up and scratching at your arms, feeling an itch where oh god, there's IV's. You throat dries quickly, scratchy from under-use -- how did you get here, you wonder. How are you alive? You dismiss that thought, still in panic because you can't find your shades and you can still see the dogs. You can't not have your shades because someone will hurt you for it or the light will fuck up your eyes and make you as blind as Terezi was, and you just. Can't. Think.

You're shaking, screaming still. you bring your hands to your head, tugging at your hair, trying to make it stop, please, because memories are still flashing through your head, images of your murderers killing you when all that you were trying to do was fucking help them! Save Jade, that was your mission. What happens now?

There are people rushing into your room now, and you desperately grasp for your shitty sword because you're stuck on fight or flight mode and you're sticking with fight. Someone comes to hold you down, but you clumsily flash-step out of the way. You're still seeing things -- you swear that you just saw the Mayor, stabbed through the stomach, and there are barking noises. You let out a hoarse shout of 'no!', your legs buckling underneath you. You fall to the ground, curling up in a ball as you scream again. 

"Shut up, shut up! Make them stop, I can't hear it anymore! Make them go away, please!" You try to close your eyes, but you can't and you feel like you might puke. You don't, thankfully, but your throat feels like something tore and it's hurting to breathe. You let out desperate, whimpering sobs, because you can still hear them. You can still hear the --

"Hear what?" Someone asks, and oh. There's someone sitting in front of you, holding out a hand. He looks a bit older than you, with chin-length brown hair. His eyes are wide and open, and if you look over his shoulder, you see another man, tall, muscular and dark-skinned. Not a black dog, not Jack Noir out to kill you. As your eyes flash from one man to the other, they both seem surprised at your eyes. You don't blame them, and you let out a mumbled curse, looking to the ground. 

"T-the barking. Jack Noir. Just --" You start coughing, and push a hand away when it moves to try to help you. You let in a huge breath. "Just -- fuck! Where is everyone? Where's Karkat, I can't fucking breathe, just --"

The man farthest away comes closer, making a small 'shh' noise and putting a hand on your shoulder. You relax into the comfort, reminded of Bro, and let out a sigh. "Now, kid, " the man says, squeezing your shoulder. "It's alright, just go back to sleep. You'll be okay."

You nod numbly, feeling so tired again. You take his hand when it's offered to you, and let yourself get led back to the bed. The IV's are, thankfully, still connected to your arms, so you don't feel any pain from that. You lay down, letting the man pull your blankets over you.

"Sorry," you say. Your not particularly surprised when you sound exhausted, but it isn't comforting, either, either. "Sorry for that. Bad dream. I couldn't find my shades." The man nods in understanding. "Are you going to be here when I wake up? You're comforting."

The man seems a bit surprised at that but both he and his friend -- the long-haired one -- smile. "Sure, kid. No problem."

You smile, too, before letting your eyes close. "Thanks. But I haven't been a kid in a long time."

Your name is Dave Strider, and you fall asleep moments later.


	3. Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a multitude of people that had been in these explosions -- 32 people injured, 22 dead. What made everything more strange, though, was that there were many people hurt that were related, which made it seem like there may have been gang involvements or a sadistic psychopath. All thirty-two of the injured were suspects, but who knew if it was even them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters in one day because im awesome

Your name is Agent Derek Morgan, and you are pretty confused. 

Earlier today, a deranged, bed-raggled teen ran down the hall and ran right into Reid. He grabbed for a weapon that wasn't there before becoming overly nervous and passing out on the floor. It just so happened that the kid was a suspect in the murder investigation that had brought you here, to Maple Valley, Washington. There was a few bombings that this kid was connected to -- but he didn't fit the profile. You knew, as well as anyone else on your team, that he couldn't have been the guy.

Then, you hear screaming from a room down the hall where the Vantas kid was, where a kid in a coma woke up screaming. He disturbed a lot of people, including nurses and even other patients. He had said that he heard dogs, which made you believe that he had been attacked by them. That was until, of course, you found out who this kid was.

His name was Dave Strider, and he was in the same explosion that had hurt Karkat Vantas. While Karkat had only suffered from some burns, Dave was in a coma for four days without waking up. Not only was he impaled by two different pieces of shrapnel that went clean through his torso, but he was close enough to the blast that the force of the shock wave threw him back, causing him to hit his head on the ground, hard. 

There was a multitude of people that had been in these explosions -- 32 people injured, 22 dead. What made everything more strange, though, was that there were many people hurt that were related, which made it seem like there may have been gang involvements or a sadistic psychopath. All thirty-two of the injured were suspects, but who knew if it was even them. 

And you had just promised to be there when this Strider woke up. You knew that there was another Strider in the hospital, who was caught in another explosion, and also two Lalondes here, who were distantly related to the Striders. This one in particular, though, was one that you were not looking forward to.

The whole family came up with some criminal records, but mostly of petty thefts. This Strider, though, Dave Strider -- he had a reputation for being one of the most troublesome kids that this station had ever had. not only was he a graffiti artist (and, you'll admit, he's a good one), but he snarks up (and flirts with) almost every officer that he's been around. 

What confuses you most, though, was why he would be waking up with nightmares. From what you knew, he had a good life, even if his family was hectic. You don't know why he would be afraid of dogs, either, because he hadn't reported anything to Animal Control (you had checked with Garcia). You don't know who Jack Noir is, because no names came up in the database when Garci checked. From the looks of it, both he and Vantas had inklings of PTSD -- but that didn't make sense, because Vantas admitted that he didn't remember any explosion (or anything else, for that matter), and Dave was afraid of dogs.

You're sitting in the hall with Reid, thinking while you fold your hands and rest your chin on them. you squint, trying to deduce it, but it doesn't make sense to you. Finally, Reid taps on your shoulder, shaking you out of your thoughts. 

"Maybe it was just because of shock," he says nonchalantly. "He could have remembered a bad memory of dogs from his childhood instead of the explosion. It is fairly common for our minds to replace one memory with another to give us a semblance of what's going on, even if it's not the real truth. Like a delusion."

You shake your head, frowning as you sit up. "It was more than that, though. They both reached for weapons that weren't there -- they both had signs of PTSD, even though neither of them even mentioned the explosion. Some of the doctors said that in the few seconds that some of the others have woken up, they did the same thing. Were they all part of a gang or something?"

Reid shrugs. "I don't think so. None of them had any tattoos indicating such, except Dirk Strider and Jake English. But, even those were home made and probably just a joke or act of rebellion. 63 percent of children do things like that when they go through their 'rebellious' phase, if it's drugs, tattoos, sex or parties." 

"Speaking of that, though," you say, leaning back in your chair and popping your knuckles. "There were evidence of drugs in a lot of these kids' systems. Hell, there were even some of the adults that had some."

'The Adults' was referring to all of those that had died in the explosion -- a coincidence, considering that they were all the parents or guardians of these children. You bite your cheek for a moment. "Should we find a time to tell them that they're parents or guardians are passed away? I mean..."

"Maybe," Reid replies, fiddling with his thumbs. "But after everything, unless they ask." He pauses for a second while you nod, before looking up at you. "Hey, Morgan, don't you think it's strange that they both --"

He's interrupted when a nurse (one that you talked to earlier about all of the people you needed to talk with) ran in, frantically waving her arms around. "Excuse me, but Agent Morgan, Dr. Reid, I have news for you!" You and Reid stand, waiting for the panting girl to breathe so she could talk.

"Yes, Ms. Valenti?" Reid said politely, putting his hands in his pockets. 

"The patients, all that you needed to question," she said, still finding it hard to breathe. "They, they're all..." She let out another labored breath before quickly breathing in and finishing her sentence.

"They all just woke up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love me


	4. A Lot of Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much that you have to say, except that your head is pounding like a bitch and can someone please get you a glass of water, your throat is so parched. Someone in the room obliges, but you hear shouting from outside the room and your head is swimming with a lot of bright colors and there's someone talking, now.
> 
> "Uh, Gamzee? Is that, uh, you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!  
> I'm an ass with updating, but at least I have a plot to stick to for this fic! So yes!!

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you do  _not_ want to open your eyes.

When you tried to earlier, the lights made your head pound. It still is, actually. There isn't much that you have to say, except that your head is pounding like a bitch and can someone please get you a glass of water, your throat is so parched. Someone in the room obliges, but you hear shouting from outside the room and your head is swimming with a lot of bright colors and there's someone talking, now.

"Uh, Gamzee? Is that, uh, you?"

Your eyes fly open once again, because damn you if you don't want to listen to that motherfucker's voice. You sit up gently, trying not to move too much, and may the messiahs have mercy on you, because  _everything_ hurts. Your back aches, and your head, and you have the feeling like you were just ripped in two. _  
_

Weren't you, though?

You let out a hoarse chuckle, rubbing your eyes from the sleep (you can still feel the scars, the lines like sloppy pencils dragged across your face). Your head feels lighter than usual, but you don't pay attention to that. That isn't important. Instead, you look over to your companion in the room.

"Hey, Tav-bro," you start, but then you stop, when you see the boy.

He's got tan skin, like one of those humans, and short, curly hair, a mop on his head. He still looks like Tavros -- just, more nervous, more  _human_ , and... Different. Not a bad different, but your hands automatically fly up to your own light head, feeling around for your horns, but meeting a messy black mop of hair. 

"Motherfuck."

* * *

You're running. It's the cowardly thing to do, but hell if you don't, because that's just what you do. You run, and you do it fast, until you see flashing of purple and glowing lights and strange figures (it's the trolls, and everyone else, and it frightens you, though you don't know why. You don't know how, but there are horrorterrors and darkness and _peril,_ and you're so afraid). You aren't sure what is really happening, but you run and run, until there's a sudden jolt. And you're in a bright room. 

There isn't any darkness, just so much white, but the brightness doesn't bother you very much. Your thrashing on a bed, trying to move, trying to escape the bonds that the nightmare had on you, trying to escape the grasp of tendrils and shadows and screeching whispers. You try to shake yourself out of the daze, try to make it better. You swallow dryly, shaky hands reaching for water (but they're in the water, the bubbling masses of shrill screams and claws). 

"Miss Lalonde. Rose Lalonde," You whisper, your own name foreign on your lips. "Seer, Seer of Light," You say, because that title is all that you are now. The only light in the blasphemous darkness of the horrorterrors, and the tears drip down your cheeks.

You're gasping for air, your heart pounding in your ears. You bring your hands up to your face, and images of jade green and a bright white, then the darkness afterwards. You feel the prongs as they stab through you. You wipe away your eyes, shuddering and shaking and grasping around yourself.

You can still hear them calling for you, an echo in your ears that you wish would go away. Pleading and crooning of  _darling, darling, come to us,_ and the memories of stumbling over Oclo (when all you wanted was to be able to  _speak_. All you wanted was one word in English, or at least something human, but you couldn't). 

You're choking on silent sobs, and you can see that your black nail polish is chipped, and you can feel yourself bleeding from your side. And as you take in every wound and every hurt, you hear a shout and a crash from outside of the door, from outside, and you remember how broken you really are.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you aren't afraid to admit that you're afraid of the dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy St. Patrick's Day, to everyone who celebrates it


	5. Lucky Guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you don't really pay attention to the crashing and shattering of glass around you, or the fact that a lot of people dressed as medicullers (but they look human) are rushing in and trying to sedate you.
> 
> Instead, you're wondering where the hell Terezi is, because you really feel like kicking her in the spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRODUCTIVE!!

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you really want to beat up Pyrope.

So you don't really pay attention to the crashing and shattering of glass around you, or the fact that a lot of people dressed as medicullers (but they look human) are rushing in and trying to sedate you. Instead, you're wondering where the hell Terezi is, because you really feel like kicking her in the spine.

All you remember is her stabbing you in the back... Literally. And, maybe some stuff in these dream bubble things. Which makes you wonder if this is just a dream bubble --

But it sees a bit too realistic and lacking in colorful, floating sea animals. So you think you're not -- you think that you should be okay. But now those medicullers are stabbing you with a needle, and you shout out a loud 'hey!'.

You're dizzy now, so, you fall back down on the bed that you'd come up from. You see stressed out faces, and frowns, but what you really see is a flash of teal out of the corner of your eye.

* * *

 

You're John Egbert now, and wow! This is new!

You aren't sure whether this is a dream bubble or not, but it seems pretty good, even if it is. You're in a hospital room, you know that, and you're curious as to why it's so painful to move, but you're on Earth! There are people!!!

You say this to one of the nurses when she checks up on you, because you're so excited. She gives you a smile that resembles a sneer, before she speaks.

"A few FBI agents will be coming in and questioning you on the explosion," she warns, scowling. "Be sure not to be rude."

You nod vehemently, brown-black curls bobbing with your movements. "Thank you, ma'm!" You chirp, before she walks out. 

All you wonder is, what explosion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	6. Chapter 6

It feels like burning.

It feels like burning, but not quite, because it's cold and dreadful and pressing through your abdomen as it eats away at you with a beam of white light. It's like magic, but you can still here him snarling that it's science! C'mon, Fef, it's science!

You can hear him snarl still, an echo in your ears of your shouting and Sollux's short, labored gasp as he crumpled to the ground. You can still hear the ringing of that blasted wand, as it shone right through you, burning like cold and feeling like moonlight and rapture and the burning Alternian sun all at once.

You can feel parched lips, dried like your throat and your eyes and everything so  _dry_ , it hurts, but you've gotten used to it. You've gotten used to the half-awake, half-asleep state that you've come to associate with death, floating and whimsical, but causing whimpers to crawl out of your throat. When you try to open your eyes, you still just see the white, and you gasp before shutting them again. 

You don't want to see it. You don't want the light.

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and you're tired of White Science.

* * *

 

You still can't see.

You still can't see and it bothers you so, so much, and it feels like those dumb eyepatches are still over your eyes but it's  _different._ You try to open those lids, but all you get is resistance and blackness, and it makes your head hurt. It makes your mind ache.

Your mouth aches from an unusual weight sitting in it, and when you move your jaw, you find out that it's teeth. 

You can't move your hands or your legs, feeling leather straps holding you back. You struggle. You struggle and strain and try to shout, but there's a tube stuck down your throat that makes that a no-no.

Your mind immediately thinks that they've hooked you up to a ship, that's why you can't see. It's why you can't move and why everything hurts so much more than you think it should. This can't be it! It can't! But then someone puts their hand on your arms and gently undoes the straps, and your hands fly to your mouth to pull out that nasty tube, where you can feel air going through.

It hurts more than you thought it would, and you let out a hacking cough, spluttering and nearly spitting everywhere. It  _hurts_ , you try to scream but your hoarse voice only lets it pass through as a whisper. Your claws -- no nails, they're blunt and useless -- claw at your throat as you gasp in, in in, until you're nearly forced to breathe out. 

You don't really register the fact that you're trying to yell about how you never wanted to be a helmsman, you never wanted to fall apart like this, but it sounds like wheezing, and that's all you can hear. You gasp about how no, no, you can't do that because you don't have psionics anymore, you can't even work right. You're broken, you wheeze, but it sounds like breathing.

You breath.

It takes a while to catch your breath from your outburst of panicked-sounding breaths and half-formed words, but you sit for a moment to still yourself.

You need to calm down, you grouch at your own brain.

Slowly, very slowly, the ringing in your ears fades away enough for you to hear a voice.

".. aptor? Mr. Captor, can you hear me?" the effeminate voice asks, which you nod wearily to, sitting up and turning your head in the direction of her voice.

"Yeth?" You reply, crackling and raspy, and fuck you, no, you're not about to cry because you have teeth again, nopenopenope

"Mr. Captor, we'd like to take the bandages off of your eyes, now that your awake. We've been checking the healing, and it looks like you should be fine with sunglasses, for now."

"Bandageth?" You question with your whispery voice, tilting your head to the side. The woman giggles. 

"Of course! Weren't you wondering why you couldn't see?"

It's because an asshole shot through me with a science wand, you want to say, but you also want this nice dream with this kind woman to last. "I haven't been able to thee for a very long time," you whisper, bringing your hands up to bite on your nails. Another hand pushes yours down.

"You... I'll have to check with medical records, but it is plausible that before the explosion you couldn't see. There were a lot of blank spots that the doctor noticed in your records, but from what we've gathered is that, even if your eyes were damaged, you should be able to see now. Would you like a try?"

You nod, not bothering that the woman had stopped you from biting at your worn-down nails, and hands reach to the back of your head to pull back something that sounds like Velcro. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling her take the thing off, hands twitching in your lap. 

"Alright, go ahead and open them!" The woman chirps after you feel the tell-tale feeling of glasses perching on your nose. 

When you open your eyes, you see an ugly pastel pink wall, and a human woman in front of you smiling warmly.

You break down crying, your own grin sloppily spread across your face.

* * *

 

You're now Emily Prentiss, and and when the kind nurse takes off Captor's eye guard, you don't expect him to start crying.

Usually, when people that are blind for a day or two get their sight again, they groan in thanks and tell the nurse to go away.

Instead, Captor has a full breakdown and keeps on thanking the woman with a scratchy voice, wiping his face with the back of his hands and a wide smile stretching across his face. 

These kids are strange, you think.


	7. Questions?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't really know what you expected, after the kid having a giant panic attack, but the news that his brother is dead... Well, he seemed to skip the grief stage.

"The fuck do you mean, he's dead!?"

Your name is Derek Morgan, and this isn't really what you expected. 

Well, you don't really know what you expected, after the kid having a giant panic attack, but the news that his brother is dead... Well, he seemed to skip the grief stage.

"Mr. Strider, if you would calm down a bit, then we could talk about --"

"No!" The teen stubbornly shouts, interrupting Reid. "No, we won, that's all that matters. We won, he should be alive again. That's -- argh!" Strider slammed his fist down into the table harshly, a scowl permeating his features, eyes narrowed and unobstructed. 

The three of you had gone to the cafeteria once Strider had woken up again, and was deemed stable enough. He had someone go into his house and get some clothes, though, which took a fifteen-minute drive and an experience with puppets that you think Spencer never wanted to repeat again.

Prentiss is sitting at another table with the younger Captor boy, who is showing no recollection of even knowing Strider, save for a glance in his direction every once in a while. Strider simply ignores the fellow. 

But now, they're babbling nonsense about winning something, and you quite honestly fear for both of their mental health. That is, until you hear loud shouting coming from down the hall. 

"No, you shut your grub-shitting, word-blistering mouth! I would never fucking set off an explosion if my life depended on it, you obtuse, ambivalent, mind-shatteringly imbecilic --"

Both of the boys that the team were talking to perk up almost instantly, saying at the same time:

"Kitkat?" -- "KK?"

The offensive words stop as a Hispanic kid walks into the near-empty room, eyes nearly popping out of his skull. "Sollux? Strider? What the  _fu--"_

"Language, Mr. Vantas," Hotch says quickly, frowning, but the other two boys are bounding across the room to see Karkat. Well, Strider is bounding, but Captor is sort of shuffle-walking towards them. 

Dave already picked Vantas up and was twirling him around like some sort of romance movie.

"Kitkat, it's great to see you, I was wondering if your pretty little horny nubs had dissappeared off of the face of the universe, but --"

"PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT, STRIDER, OR I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL SHIT ON EVERYTHING YOU OWN AND LOVE!"

Reid almost started at that, but then the three boys got to happily chatting (and introducing Strider and Captor to each other) as some others slowly began shuffling in from their rooms, beginning to converse. 

Over-all, they seemed to be talking about some sort of fantasy sci-fi game that revolved around the end of the world, but they treated it as if they had actually lived in the game. It was strange, and you could see the wheels turning in Reid's head until --

"Oh! It's that one video game that came out last year, Sburb!"

And the whole room went silent. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos, please!


End file.
